


Neering

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Dom/sub, Dominance, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Ficlet, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Submission, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 16:44:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4443905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dwalin orders Bard and Fíli around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Neering

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon’s “Dwalin domineers the hell out of Fili and Fili's human lover” prompt on [the Hobbit Kink Meme](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/10731.html?thread=22389995#t22389995).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It’s a nice view to be sure, even if Dwalin does find the look of men to be a little thin, a little too long. Bard is one of the better ones, with his dark scruff not too unlike Thorin’s, his scraggly hair thick enough to be pulled back into a tail. He looms over Dwalin’s prince with a certain strength, his skin sun-kissed and exposed, roughened from long labour. He’s handsome enough, in his own right, but Fíli’s far prettier, crushed under Bard with his knees pinned to his chest. 

It must be an awkward way to fuck, legs spread and bent back, but neither complain—they know what that gets them. Bard holds Fíli’s legs down while his hips pound into Fíli’s ass, round and ripe and pink from the abuse: a tantalizing peek for Dwalin. He can see the way Bard tries to be _sweet_ with it, because he doesn’t understand _dwarves_ : he tries to make love instead of fuck. He moves in slow, rhythmic thrusts, grinding instead of crushing, and Fíli, young as he is, moans all the same. Maybe he doesn’t know yet what it feels like to be taken by a true force to be reckoned with. He deserves better, harder, and finally Dwalin growls, “Fuck him rougher.”

Bard’s head tilts, his eyes hazy and dilated. Dwalin levels his stare, sitting halfway across the room in an old, rickety chair. He didn’t come all the way down to Dale just to _watch_ ; he half guards his prince, half follows the request to _dominate_ , and he can do that well enough with his words. He makes it plain on his face that he won’t tolerate misbehaviour. Fíli asked a task of him, and he promised to oblige, and he won’t have a weak-willed human diluting that gift. 

Bard nods. He turns back to Fíli, breathing hard and glistening with sweat, and sets a harsher pace. Fíli cries out, arching up, his golden hair tossed all about him. He’s flushed, happy, but he doesn’t know any better. He hasn’t had the real warriors that Dwalin has. Dwalin can see that Bard’s still holding back. He could be _bruising_ Fíli’s plump rear, but instead he’s only smacking it. Dwalin hisses, “Harder.”

Bard winces and has the gal to snap, “I don’t want to hurt him.”

Before Fíli can interject, Dwalin retorts, “He’s a prince of Erebor, a descendant of Durin himself, and at the very least, he’s a dwarf—he can take it.” And if he couldn’t, he wouldn’t be worthy of standing beside Thorin. They’ve won great battles together but doubtless have more ahead, and this should be a fair comparison. Sex should get Fíli’s blood pumping like the roar of an orc.

Bard mutters under his breath, “He’s also the man I love.” Fíli smiles adoringly, reaching up through his legs to run through Bard’s hair, and for a moment, they come closer, like they’re about to kiss. But they stop short; they haven’t been given permission. Not that Bard seems to care about that.

Bard keeps going, but Dwalin doesn’t. He lets go of his thick cock, jutting proudly out of his trousers, and pushes to his feet. As soon as he stands up, imposing and menacing with no effort at all, Bard slows. He glances at his temporary master, and Fíli groans below him, “Listen to him, love. Please.”

Bard looks at Fíli, shudders in obvious delight, and obeys. He slams forward hard enough to throwFíli against the headboard, cushioned by a weather-beaten pillow. Fíli cries out, clasping tight to Bard’s shoulders, and Bard finally sets a relentless pace, claiming Fíli with deep, almost violent thrusts that would make a common dwarf proud. Perhaps not a warrior, and not Dwalin, but it might be the best human strength can do, so Dwalin settles for it. He doesn’t wander back to his chair, though, just palms his cock where he stands, reaching the other hand out to strokes Bard’s broad shoulders. A moan twists out of Bard’s throat, beautiful and raw, and Dwalin traces down his spine to squeeze the taut cheeks of his ass, nice and firm. 

It isn’t long before Bard’s breaking again, trembling near his peak; Dwalin’s been around long enough to recognize an orgasm before it comes. Dwalin makes sure to stop it, reaching up to grab Bard’s hair, and he uses that hold to wrench Bard away. Bard screams in pain but goes, stumbling back. His cock slips out of Fíli’s hole with a squelching noise. Dwalin lets Bard have a second to gather himself, mostly so Dwalin has time to stare at Fíli’s puckered hole, dilating open to its red recesses, clear lube dribbling out. 

For an explanation, Dwalin growls, “Disobedient children don’t get to come.” A flicker of anger passes over Bard’s eyes—he’s a father and clearly unaccustomed to being treated as young as he is, the youngest of them—but it turns quickly into anticipation, and he doesn’t fight Dwalin’s hold. He lets his arms fall limp at his sides, chest heaving with his laboured breath. Finally compliant.

Before Dwalin’s decided what to do with Bard, Fíli’s sitting up, crawling over and lifting on his knees to nuzzle into Bard’s neck. He doesn’t quite _kiss_ his lover; he needs permission for that. But Dwalin lets him writhe wantonly against Bard’s chiseled body, their hard cocks brushing over one another. 

“Can I come?” Fíli asks, breathless and erotic: the princely treasure he is. Dwalin considers it a minute. He likes to see Fíli desperate, pliant and needy, but he also loves his prince and doesn’t want to deny him. 

Finally, Dwalin decides, “You’ve been good.” Which is a _yes_. Fíli breaks out in a dazzling smile. Dwalin gives Bard a shove, and Bard hits the mattress on his side, Fíli watching him excitedly. Dwalin decrees, “Do it in his mouth.”

Fíli doesn’t need to be told twice. He falls instantly, curling alongside Bard with his crotch thrusting forward, one leg lifting. Bard helps and presses closer to rest his cheek on Fíli’s thigh. He wraps his lips around Fíli’s cock with no prompting, nearly choking when Fíli gasps and pistons forward. Bard regains himself a moment later. Fíli’s stout but thick and likely doesn’t reach too far down his throat, just stretches his jaw. Bard bobs along it when he can, sucking here and there—Dwalin can see the hollowing out of his cheeks. Fíli loves it all, squirming and moaning and getting ever closer, until he lets out a piercing _shriek_ , and his whole face contorts in pleasure. Just for fun, Dwalin hisses at Bard, “Swallow it.”

Bard does. He takes large gulps, even though he’s no match for the potency of an heir of Durin, and rivers of white still bubble around the corners of his lips. Fíli keeps thrusting as he finishes, crying out and tossing to and fro, while Bard tries to hold him still and take it. As Fíli starts to come down again, he tries to snuggle his face between Bard’s legs, but Dwalin shoves him back wordlessly. Fíli whimpers but stills, his flagging cock still buried in Bard’s mouth, and Bard wisely doesn’t pull away.

With that sight before him, it only takes Dwalin a few more strokes to finish. He comes with a languid groan, throwing his head back and shoving forward, aiming his cock down at the pair of them. It splatters both their naked bodies, and Dwalin shakes it all out to cover as much ground as possible, neither of them making any move to escape. It takes Dwalin several more strokes to finish, and then the raging boil that’s taken over him begins to settle down. He takes a few seconds just to breathe, still overwrought with _pleasure_.

Then he reaches for Bard’s hair, twists a hand in it and pulls Bard off Fíli’s cock. Their parting makes a slick sound, covered by Fíli’s groan. Bard lets himself be tugged closer, until he’s right at the edge of the bed, and Dwalin’s pushing his head down so that Dwalin can wipe his cock off in Bard’s hair. Only when he’s sure he won’t leave a stain does he tuck himself back into his trousers. He’ll need to be done up, though he’s still breathing hard and sweating, lightly pink in the cheeks. 

He lets go of Bard and announces, “I’m going to go have a drink—clean yourselves up.” He doesn’t say how, but he sees the mischievous glint in Fíli’s eyes that says tongues will be involved. Dwalin’s fairly certain that the minute he leaves, Bard will have a hot mouth around his cock, but Dwalin’s now too spent to care if Bard comes anyway. As long as he doesn’t see it, he can pretend their games are all powerful. He asks, almost as an afterthought, “You’re sure the little ones are out?”

Bard nods his head tiredly, but mutters, “Close the door again anyway, just in case.” Dwalin nods.

Then he turns and heads for a much needed glass of water, leaving the two lovebirds to lick each other clean.


End file.
